


The Wrath of the Red Dragon

by Emachinescat



Category: Hardy Boys - Franklin W. Dixon
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Gangs, Revenge, Romance, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-06
Updated: 2006-07-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:52:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 14,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emachinescat/pseuds/Emachinescat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank and Joe are in college and everything is new. New friends, new classes, even new girlfriends! But when a plot to kidnap Joe goes wrong and the boys are put on their guard, they realize that one of their new friends is wielding a deadly secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something More

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own, this is for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Enjoy :)

_"I didn't know what was in store, when I walked right through the door. Then I saw you over there, our blue eyes locked in a stare. I didn't know quite what to say. Sometimes words get in the way." **-Something More**_

* * *

"Finally! No more classes for the weekend!" eighteen year old Joe Hardy cheered as he and his year older brother plopped down on their beds in their college dorm.

Frank grinned. "Yeah. So…Joe? How was your first week of college?" The brothers had recently began taking college courses, and were staying in a dorm at the school itself.

The blonde, muscular boy rolled his blue eyes and said, "Tough."

"A lot different than high school, huh?"

"Yeah. And it's kinda weird, living away from Mom and Dad. Although it is kinda nice to get away from Aunt Gertrude's constant nagging." Frank threw a pillow at him. "What?" The boys' parents were Fenton and Laura Hardy. Fenton was a nationally acclaimed private investigator, and he had taught the boys everything they knew. They had solved many cases, and were pretty well known themselves. Aunt Gertrude was their father's sister, and although she loved the boys, she had an odd way of showing it.

Frank's dark brown eyes sparkled as he ran a hand absentmindedly through his thick brown hair. "If you wouldn't do everything you can possibly do without killing yourself in the process to bug her, she wouldn't nag you constantly."

"Oh, but big brother," Joe said playfully, "that's what I live for." He paused, then frowned. "How long did it take you to figure out where all your classes were last year?"

Frank, a sophomore, grinned, and said, "I thought Joe Hardy never got lost."

"That was before I saw this place!"

* * *

Frank and Joe walked side by side, through the college campus. It was nearing dinnertime, and the boys were planning on heading out to the Taco Bell on their way back to Bayport. The four friends planned to start back to their hometown, which was a two hour drive from campus, and visit home for the weekend.

Before they had gotten to the parking garage, however, Joe suddenly stopped and waved at two girls that were heading the opposite direction. "Izzy! Jazz!" he yelled. The two stopped and headed toward them.

"Who are they?" Frank asked.

"They're freshmen, like me," Joe stated. "We're in calculus together." He grinned at Frank. "I think Jazz digs me," he added.

Frank raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"Hi, Joe!" a tall, thin girl of eighteen said. She had shoulder length black hair and dark blue eyes. The other girl, who was a few inches taller than her companion, said nothing. She had light brown eyes and brown hair. Blue and pink streaks were visible in her thick hair. She wore slightly baggy clothes and eyed Frank in interest. To Joe's surprise, Frank returned the glance.

"Hi, Jazz!" Joe returned the greeting. He turned to his brother. "Frank, this is Jasmine Richards. And this is Isabella Starr. This is my brother, Frank."

"Hi," Jasmine said shyly.

Frank cleared his throat. "Hey, we're about to grab a bite to eat. You girls want to come with us?"

"Sure," Isabella spoke for the first time that night.

"It's fine with me," Jasmine added.

"Great!"

Since the girls were now with them, the plans changed from Taco Bell to Olive Garden. As they sat at their booth, waiting to be served, Frank turned to Isabella. "So…" he said awkwardly. "Your name is Isabella…?"

The girl smiled shyly. "Yes…and you're Frank?"

Frank nodded, and an awkward silence formed between the two. Joe broke it by saying, "Hey, Frank, what do you think of Izzy's hair? Looks like it was done at an art exhibit instead of a hair salon, eh?"

Isabella glared at him. "I wouldn't talk. At least I have some flavor…while you're just a dull, dumb blonde."

"Oh, really? Well, I—" Joe's retort was cut off by the waiter bringing their food.

While they ate, Frank and Joe listened to the animated talk between the two girls. "You guys are best friends or something, right?" Joe said.

"No, we just talk about stuff we've done together since we were six for no reason," Isabella snapped.

Frank laughed. "She did get you there, Joe."

After dinner, Frank and Isabella went out to the car while Joe and Jasmine took care of the bill. "So…you're a detective, right?" Isabella asked as she looked into Frank's eyes.

"Yes," he answered. He noted an odd look in her eyes. "What's up?" he asked as they reached the car.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head slightly. Then she added, "I bet you've dealt with gangs a lot, haven't you?"

Frank found her question a little odd but didn't say so. "Yeah, I guess. We've put a few gangsters in jail. Why?"

"No reason. It's getting cold. Let's get in the car." Frank agreed, and soon he was in the drivers' seat and Isabella was beside him. "You know, I think it's really cool what you do," she stated. "You know, detective work. I bet your life is full of action; adventure. Right?"

"It is pretty exciting," Frank admitted. "We've gotten into a lot of dangerous stuff, though. Been in a few scrapes we thought we'd never get out of."

"Hm." Isabella seemed lost in thought.

"What're you thinking about?"

"I dunno…I just think that would be pretty cool, you know. To look into the face of danger."

"I take it you don't scare easy?"

Isabella shook her head. "No." She smiled slightly. "But Jazz is way different. She's so shy, so scared of everything. She's been like that as far back as I can remember…but I think she could be courageous if there ever was a need…if someone she cared about was in danger…she would risk everything for that person."

"Ah."

"I really like you, Frank," Isabella said as she leaned toward him. Their lips met and didn't part for several minutes.

* * *

While Frank and Isabella were having their serious conversation, Joe and Jasmine were getting to know each other better as they waited in line to pay the check.

"I don't see how you can be so brave," Jasmine stated, looking into Joe's blue eyes. "I mean, from what I've heard about your adventures, it seems like you guys do a whole lot of dangerous stuff."

"Ahh…not really," Joe said, and Jasmine looked at him curiously. "All we do is defy death on a daily basis and practically save the world from horrible evil doers."

Jasmine laughed. "Have you ever been kidnapped?" she asked, then blushed. "I'm sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask."

Joe grinned. "Not at all. And in answer to your question, I have been kidnapped many times."

Jasmine gasped. "It must be terrible!"

"Well, it is," Joe admitted. "But I know I can always count on Frank to get me out of a tight spot."

"You guys are really close, huh?"

Joe nodded. "Sometimes I wish that Frank wasn't so…overbearing, I guess. I know he cares about me…but he's like protective—to protective, sometimes."

"That's how big siblings are," Jasmine stated. They were now almost to the front of the line. "At least, that's how I am with my little sister."

"Oh, you have a little sister?" Their conversation was put to a halt momentarily while Joe paid. Then the two walked as slowly as possible back to the car.

"Yeah, I do," Jasmine answered, acting as if there hadn't been any interruption whatsoever. "Her name is Angel—she's ten. You know, I get scared really easy, but when it comes to her, I'd do anything to protect her."

"That's Frank for you," Joe said. "He'd die for me."

"Now that's love," Jasmine stated. They slowed their pace toward the car.

"Yeah," Joe said. He cleared his throat. "So…your friend seems a bit weird. How long've you known her?"

"Oh, many years. Although there was a period last year where I felt really distant from her. Actually, it was more like all through high school. I never seemed to be included in her plans, and she always seemed evasive when I asked her what she was doing. But then, a few months ago, she called me, apologized for acting so strange, and then we sort of picked up where we left off. But it really made me wonder, you know?"

"Yeah. Maybe she was just going through some tough stuff at home."

"Probably."

"Well, here we are," Joe said. He and Jasmine got into the back seat. Frank and Isabella looked up from their conversation as the door slammed shut.

"Well, you took long enough," Isabella grinned.

"Sorry," Jasmine apologized. "Long line."

"Uh-huh," said Frank doubtfully.

"But what about you guys?" Joe said. "What've you two been doing in this car…all alone?"

Isabella turned in her seat and slapped him on the arm. "Shut up, blondie."

Joe rolled his eyes, but said nothing more. It was decided that they would take the girls back to campus, then Frank and Joe would head on home. After lightly kissing the girls goodnight, Frank and Joe headed toward Bayport.

"I really like Isabella," Frank commented.

"You know, she's the last person on the planet I'd expect you to like," Joe said.

"Why?"

"She seems so…wild, yet you're so…dull."

"Shut up, Joe! And actually, she's really sweet. And brave."

"Yeah, Jazz's really cool too," Joe said.

Both boys were happy and excited about their newly found dates, but neither one could imagine how dangerous a role these two would play in their lives…


	2. On the Ride

_"We don't have to try to think the same thoughts. We just have a way of knowing everything's gonna be okay. We laugh 'til we cry, read each other's minds, live with a smile, make it all worthwhile. Life has moments hard to describe, feeling great and feeling alive, never coming down from this mountain we're on." **-On the Ride**_

"Frank! Joe!" Laura Hardy's jubilant voice rang through the house as she excitedly greeted her sons. The brothers grinned and stepped inside, giving their mother an affectionate peck on her cheek.

Fenton Hardy and his sister, the boys' Aunt Gertrude, entered the room. After exchanging hellos, and after some scolding from Aunt Gertrude, the boys were finally seated in the living room with their family.

"So, how's college been treating you, Joe?" Fenton asked his youngest son.

Joe thought for a moment, then said, "Well, all in all, the food's good—"

"You're only saying that because you eat off campus," Frank pointed out.

"No, really?" Joe shot back, grinning. "Anyway, the food's good, the teachers are okay, but the girls!" Joe let out a low whistle and Aunt Gertrude raised her eyebrows.

"Joseph Hardy, what have you been doing this week?" she snapped.

Joe felt his face turn red as he grinned sheepishly and said, "Nothing, Auntie. I've just met a lot of awesome girls, that's all."

"Hmph," was the grudging reply, but their aunt said no more on the subject.

"And what about you, Frank?" Laura asked. "Sophomore year going okay?"

Frank nodded. "Totally. And, come to think of it—" he cast a quick look at his Aunt Gertrude before continuing, "—I met a pretty awesome girl myself."

"We both did," Joe chimed in. "Well, I already knew them both. Sorta. But we went out tonight."

Fenton smiled. "So that's why you were so late."

"Yeah," said Joe.

"Who are they?" Laura wanted to know.

"Jasmine Richards and Isabella Starr," Frank informed them. "Isabella is really cool—I think I'm going to really like her, but still, there seems to be something odd about her."

"Hmmmm…could it be the pink and blue hair?" Joe said teasingly.

"Pink and blue hair?" Aunt Gertrude said shrilly.

Frank blushed. "It's streaked. Not all pink and blue. Anyway, that's not what was odd about Isabella. It almost seemed as if she was hiding something. She asked me if I have ever dealt with gangs, then clamped up. Wouldn't say another word on the subject."

Joe noticed that a frown was creasing his father's forehead. "Dad? What's up?"

Fenton clasped his hands together. "That reminded me—I need to speak with you boys in my study as soon as possible."

Joe's face lit up. "Another case?"

"Quite possibly," Fenton said, looking distracted. "Come on up."

"Wait—don't you think the boys need something to eat first?" Aunt Gertrude said sharply.

Joe groaned and his aunt shot him a withering glance. "We ate on the way here—Olive Garden. I don't think I can handle anything else."

"Well, I thought I'd seen everything," Aunt Gertrude said, partly to herself, "but I never thought I'd see the day when Joe Hardy wasn't hungry."

* * *

"Well, boys, I have a job for you," Fenton Hardy said, hands clasped together on his desk. Frank and Joe listened eagerly as their father continued. "Recently I helped arrest a member of a local gang—one of the most violent and evil gangs in New York, the Red Dragon."

"What all does the gang do?" Frank asked. "Anything specific?"

"They have been behind several murders, kidnappings, and other such things. They aren't your average 'gothic bad-boy wanna be' gang—they are a real criminal organization that sucks teens in by making them believe that they are joining a harmless gang or group, while really, they are being pulled into murder, kidnapping, you name it."

"How do they ensure that someone who doesn't want to be mixed up in all of that garbage doesn't quit or tell anyone?" Joe inquired.

"Well, actually, most of the teens get so involved in the gang, they don't want to go back. However," Fenton said, frowning, "there have been some who have just flat-out said, 'I quit!' and left." He fell silent.

"What happened to them?" Joe prompted.

"They were threatened, for one thing," Fenton said. "They were sent horrible notes warning them that they were being watched, and that they had better not tell anyone anything about the gang—or else. But then, it didn't matter whether they heeded the warnings or not. The drop-outs went missing and were found dead a few days later. Nobody drops out of the Red Dragon and survives."

There was silence for a few minutes, then Fenton cleared his throat. "As I was saying, when we arrested the gang member, Juan Peterson, he wouldn't tell us anything. He was too afraid of the Red Dragon coming after him that he wouldn't speak at all. But after some persisting and persuasion we got him to say that the Red Dragon also smuggles illegal artifacts—and next month, on a Saturday they are transferring some goods to another gang member, at midnight. That's where you two come in."

The boys looked at each other, excited. It'd been a while since they'd seen any action, and they were ready to jump at the chance to find some. They leaned in closer to their father as he began to talk.

"The cops and I are going to surround the place before the recipient gets there. We are going to jump him and arrest him. Then you two are going to show up as the people who are receiving the goods, take what was being transferred, and then hide, but not before you try to poke some information out of the thug. After you guys are gone, we'll come in and arrest the other one. Are you boys up to it?"

* * *

"You're doing what?" Jasmine Richard's blue eyes opened in surprise as Joe informed her of their midnight adventure the next month.

It was Monday evening, and the two were sitting in the car at the drive in movies, but neither one was paying the least amount of attention to the movie. Frank and Isabella were outside, sitting at the picnic table. Frank was, at least. Isabella had discovered the playground for kids that was near the screen and was spinning merrily on the merry-go-round. Frank was watching her, amused.

"I told you—we're intercepting a gangster and going undercover," Joe said.

"Wow—that's pretty scary," Jasmine said.

"Naw," Joe said, "we do stuff like this all the time."

"You don't think you'll get hurt, do you?" Jasmine asked anxiously.

"There shouldn't be anything dangerous about it," Joe said.

"Well, I sure will worry," Jasmine stated.

"Why? I mean, why worry when you know everything is going to be okay?"

Jasmine blushed. "I don't know, Joe. I've always been this way. I'm so scared of the unknown."

"We're the total opposite, aren't we?" Joe said, smiling slightly.

"Yeah," Jasmine agreed. "But that's just fine with me. I've only known you a couple of days, and already you've influenced my life in a great way. I really like you, Joe."

"And I like you, Jazz," Joe said. They leaned in to kiss.

* * *

A month had nearly passed. It was nearing time when Frank and Joe were to intercept the smugglers. Things between the two couples had changed dramatically.

Joe and Jasmine were never seen apart, always talking animatedly and cutting up.

Frank and Isabella on the other hand, their relationship became much more serious. They had spent many late nights in the boy's dorm, sitting on the small couch and talking about their lives and how much they cared for each other, while Joe could be heard snoring from the next room.

One thing Frank could never figure out, though, was Isabella's reluctance to discuss anything about their recent case or any mention of gangs. When Frank asked her about it, she nearly brushed him off. But Frank was worried that there was a reason behind the reluctance, and that it was up to him to find out what was going on—no matter what.


	3. Go Figure

_"Just when you learn the game of life, all the rules change overnight. Whoa, go figure. It seems so wrong to even try, but taking a chance never felt so right. Whoa, go figure. You had a dream, you want to be the center of the story. When things start making sense, the world turns upside down again." **–Go Figure**_

"Hello?" Frank said as he answered his cell phone.

 _'It's me,'_ Fenton Hardy's voice came from the other line.  _'I need to talk to you and Joe about tonight. Are you done with your classes for the day?'_

It was the day the boys were to intercept the smugglers. Frank pushed the speaker button on his cell so that Joe could talk as well. "Yeah, Dad. We're in our dorm right now."

_'Listen, I found out that there is only one person that's going to receive the package—so only one of you needs to show up.'_

"What, are you saying only one of us needs to go tonight?" Joe asked.

_'No, not at all. You both need to go—only one of you needs to let the smuggler see you. The other needs to be hidden, preferably closer than the police will be, so that if the one who gets the package gets into any trouble, he can be right there to help out.'_

"Good idea, Dad," Frank said. "But who is going to receive the package?"

"I will!" Joe volunteered instantly.

Frank eyed him doubtfully. "I dunno, Joe. I don't want you saying something out of place and getting yourself into trouble—you get kidnapped enough as it is."

Joe rolled his eyes. "I can handle it, Frank. It's not that difficult to take a package from some guy. Besides, you'll be there for backup, and the police will be nearby to arrest the guy after the package is handed over, too. C'mon, Dad, tell him to let me do it."

Fenton laughed slightly.  _'Frank, I trust your brother thoroughly to do this job. You two have been doing this sort of thing for years. Frank, just make sure you're nearby for backup. But Joe, do be careful.'_

"I will, Dad," Joe promised. "Don't worry."

_'I'll be there tonight as well, with the police. You sure you two will be alright?'_

"Dad, we'll be fine," Joe said, a trace of a grin on his handsome face. "We're big boys, we can take care of ourselves.

Chuckling, Fenton said, "I know. I'll see you guys tonight. Bye."

* * *

"Are you sure you should do this?" Jasmine asked Joe right before he and Frank were leaving for the case.

Joe grinned. "Jazz, don't worry," he said, kissing her lightly. "We'll be fine."

"Joe, I'm sorry," Jasmine said, blushing. "It's just so hard for me not to worry. What if something bad happens to you?"

"They'll be fine," Isabella snapped from beside Frank.

"What's up with you?" Jasmine said, momentarily forgetting her worry. "It's not my fault that I worry. Why are you jumping all over me?"

"I'm not," Isabella said.

"Oh yeah?"

"Hey, girls, break it up," Joe said quickly.

"Don't you tell me what to do, Blondie!" Isabella said fiercely.

"Hey, what's gotten into you?" Frank asked quietly.

"Nothing," Isabella said, turning a dull shade of pink.

"You're not acting normal."

"I dunno…I just…see, Frank, there's something…something I need to tell you."

Frank looked at her expectantly. "See, well, I…" she faltered. "You know what, never mind. It's nothing. Just something stupid."

"Look, Izzy, if you want to talk, I'm here for you," Frank said warmly. Joe turned to Jasmine and gagged dramatically. The girl giggled.

"No, Frank, it was nothing. Just stupid stuff. Don't worry. Have fun catching the bad guys."

"Do you…want to come?" Frank asked. Joe stared at him. Normally, Frank would never let anyone come along on a case without permission from his father or another authority figure. Joe shook his head. Frank had really gotten too involved with this girl. Then again, he himself had considered asking Jasmine to come along, but thought better of it, seeing as how worried she got just thinking about Joe going.

"NO!" Isabella said with such force that Frank was startled. The girl blushed, then said, "I mean, no thanks. I'll stay with Jazz."

Eying her warily, Frank said, "Look, are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Frank, there's nothing to talk about. Now, get going, you two'll be late." And with that, Isabella turned on her heel and walked hastily away, dragging Jasmine along with her.

Frank and Joe looked at each other for a moment, baffled.

Joe then grinned and said, "Girls will be girls."

* * *

Arriving at the spot of the meeting, the boys hastened to meet up with their father and the officers before the smuggler showed up.

"It's great to see you guys again," Fenton said, smiling warmly at his sons in the moonlight. "Ready, Joe?"

"Of course."

"Great. We've already arrested the first guy—he put up a fight, and we came out with a few scrapes and such, but we're fine. Frank, I want you to hide a few feet ahead of us, so that you can jump to the rescue if anything goes wrong. Joe, you're on in five minutes."

The boys got to the correct places, and it wasn't long before a figure came up to Joe. He was a young man, an inch taller than Joe, with black spiky hair and dark eyes.

Joe took a deep breath, then approached the young man. "You got it?" he said in a husky voice.

"Cut the lame act and get over here," the boy snapped, then grabbed Joe by the arm and pulled him closer. From his hiding spot, Frank tensed, ready to spring into action.

"Look, I've got the goods," the guy said. "You're taking them to the buyer in Maine, right?"

"Yeah," Joe answered.

"Great. Here's the stuff." He slid a brown paper package into Joe's hands, but didn't let go of his end. He studied Joe's face intently. "Never seen you before," he said, frowning.

"I'm new," Joe invented madly. "Just joined the gang."

"I stand corrected," the guy said slowly, eyes growing wide. "I  _have_ seen you before. You're that Hardy kid—and this is a setup!" Before Joe could do anything, the young man had snaked his muscular arm around Joe's neck and had a pistol pointed at his head. At that moment, the police officers and Fenton leapt from their hiding places and rushed towards the smuggler. Frank, unnoticed, began to sneak behind the young man, ready to ambush him.

"Ah, ah, ah," he said. "Don't come any closer, or Blondie here dies instantly. Joe struggled to free himself from the vise grip, but became still when the pistol was pressed harder into his temple.

"Let my son go," Fenton said in a low, threatening voice, slowly pulling out his own gun.

"Fenton Hardy. I've heard a lot about you. Actually, now that you've arrested two members of our gang, our leader, Dragon, is very angry with you. In fact, just after you arrested Juan Peterson, he vowed revenge." Tightening his grip on Joe, the young man took a step back, dragging his captive along with him. "You see, the Red Dragon is really like a big family. When you do something to one of us, you do it to us all. We've been planning on kidnapping this boy for a while, to make you see what it feels like to have one of your own—your 'family', if you will—taken away from you. Actually, we were planning on taking him tomorrow night. But, you have made things so much easier for us." Smirking, he pulled the struggling Joe back two more steps.

"Fenton, officers, I believe that I will take my package and this kid with me. I'll call you up and let you know what we're going to do with him."

Just then, Frank rushed into action. He rushed up to the smuggler and ambushed him, kicking the gun out of the surprised criminal's hand. His grip slackened slightly on Joe, and the young man was able to slide from his grasp and stand beside Frank, shaking and gasping for breath. Frank squeezed his brother's shoulder. "You okay?"

Joe managed a feeble nod. He grinned slightly. "Sure wasn't expecting that, though." The officers quickly moved in and grabbed the smuggler.

As he was being handcuffed, he yelled, "We will get revenge, Fenton Hardy! That son of yours better watch his back! You all better watch your backs! We'll be coming for you, Joey! Fenton WILL find out what it's like to lose one of his own!" The prisoner, whose identification showed that he was twenty-one years old, and was named Tristan Honeycutt, was led away.

"Joe, this is bad," Frank said.

Joe was too busy looking at something that had fallen out of Tristan's pocket during the scuffle.

"Joe? What's that?" A grim expression on his face, the seventeen year old silently handed the picture to Frank.

Frank was horrified at what he saw. The picture was of Tristan and Isabella. Written in bold permanent marker on the back in a little heart were the words,  _'Tristan Honeycutt & Isabella Starr, 4-ever.'_


	4. When There Was Me and You

_"I thought I knew the melody that I heard you singing, and when you smiled, it made me feel like I could sing along. But then you went and changed the words, now my heart is empty. I'm only left with 'used to be's' and 'once upon a song.' Now I know you're not a fairy tale, and dreams are meant for sleeping, and wishes on a star just don't come true. Now, even I can tell that I confused my feelings with the truth, because I liked the view, when there was me and you." **–When There Was Me and You**_

"Frank? You okay?" Joe asked quietly. It was now past one in the morning, and the boys were on their way back to college campus. After seeing the photo, Frank had pocketed it, then said nothing more, even as their father hugged Joe, telling him to go to extra measures to remain safe, and told Frank how proud he was of him. Frank had merely grunted.

Now the brothers were on their way back to campus, and Frank still hadn't said anything. Joe took his eyes off the road briefly to glance at Frank. "Frank, you can't clam up forever," Joe reminded him. "At least say  _something_!"

Frank slid the incriminating picture out of his pocket and sighed deeply, scowling at the photo. "I can't believe it," he murmured.

"Ah, he speaks!" Joe said jokingly, but fell silent when he saw that jokes were getting him nowhere. "Look, Frank," the blonde youth said quietly, "I'm sorry about Izzy." Frank tensed at the sound of her name, but said nothing. "But listen, bro, you gotta get on with your life. You guys weren't that close were you?"

"Joe, I really thought I loved her," Frank said.

"Frank, I may not be the most down-to-earth person in the world, but even I know that that's some pretty serious stuff you're saying. Dude, you've known her for a  _month_! Just one month."

Frank winced. "I know. And I got in way too deep. I can't believe I ever trusted her."

"Frank, it's okay. I mean, we all make mistakes, right?" He paused. "So…what're you going to do?"

Frank sighed heavily. "What else can I do? I've gotta talk to her about it."

Joe frowned. "Are you sure that's the best idea?"

"No. But it's the only one I've got. In the meantime, you're going to stay with me every second of every day—I'm not letting you leave my sight."

It was now Joe's turn to wince. "Come on, Frank, that's going over the top. I'll be fine. I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself."

Frank shook his head. "No way. You heard him. They're determined to get at you. I'm not letting them take you—not even letting them get half a chance."

Joe rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything else. They continued the rest of the ride in silence.

* * *

It was nearly two thirty when the brothers arrived at their dorm. Yawning, Joe said, "Well, bro, I'm gonna hit the sack."

"Okay," Frank said. "I'll be right behind you. It's been a long day." He studied his brother intently for a second. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course," Joe answered. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, that must've been pretty scary, what happened tonight."

Joe grinned. "C'mon, Frank, I knew you'd be there for me. There's no way you would've let that creep take me."

"Of course not," Frank agreed, putting his hand on Joe's shoulder. "Well, let's get some sleep. I guess I'll be talking to Izzy tomorrow."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Joe said. "And Frank-?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry for what happened. I really thought you two were perfect for each other."

Frank didn't answer. He went to unlock the door leading to their dorm, but was alarmed to find it already unlocked. "Joe, stay out here," he ordered. Remembering Tristan's threats about kidnapping Joe, Frank automatically assumed that someone was here to take his brother.

Joe paid no attention Frank's order, and peeked in the dorm. Both boys stepped inside. "Hello?" Frank said quietly.

"Hey, Frank." Frank turned and saw, with great surprise, that Isabella was standing right in front of him.

"Oh, wow," Joe muttered. "I'd love to stay and watch the show, guys, but I think I'm going to bed—you guys could use your privacy. Night, Frank. Izzy." And with that, the blonde teen shut himself in his room.

"What was he talking about?" Isabella asked Frank. The teen didn't answer, but glared at his girlfriend, eyes threatening to fill with tears. "Frank?"

"You lied to me." His words came out low and soft.

"What?"

"You heard me!" Frank said, with much more force than he had intended. "You lied to me, Izzy! I trusted you." He took a deep breath. "I know you used to date a gangster."

"Oh no," the girl breathed. "Tristan got arrested, didn't he?"

"That's right!" Frank yelled, anger bubbling up inside him. Although he normally was patient and willing to talk things out, he was having trouble keeping his temper in check. "He got arrested—for smuggling  _and_ attempted kidnapping!"

"Kidnapping?" Isabella said. "What happened tonight?"

"Your little boyfriend held Joe at gunpoint, and almost took him away…Isabella, do you know how much that hurts? That you would keep something like that from me? I mean, for all I know, you could be part of the same gang."

Isabella's eyes filled with tears. "Frank, I was," she said quietly. "Frank, you have to understand. Tristan wasn't always like this. He got sucked into it—and brought me with him. I played along for a while, thinking it was just a harmless gang. Then I realized what all was going on, what with the smuggling, murder, kidnapping…and I told him I was through. And left…I've been getting threatening messages for a long time, Frank. Things saying my time is coming to an end, and if I want to live another second, I can't tell anyone about what happens in the Red Dragon. That's why I didn't tell you."

Frank was too wound up to accept her apology. "Izzy—Joe almost got taken away from me—by your ex-boyfriend! If I had known you were involved with scum like this, I never would have liked you in the first place. But the fact that you were, and you kept it from me—is so much worse. I'm sorry, Isabella. But we're through."

"But Frank—"

"Don't even try to convince me otherwise!" Frank hissed. "I TRUSTED YOU! AND YOU LIED TO ME! Who knows, maybe you're still working for the gang! Maybe you're trying to get to Joe—maybe that's the only reason you even pretended to like me. I just can't believe I fell for you."

Unshed tears shining in her eyes, Isabella spun on her heel and stalked out of the room, a heart-wrenching sob escaping her trembling lips. Frank sighed loudly and ran a hand through his thick hair, trying to decide what to do.

Before he could decide anything, a shrill shriek sounded from outside.

Joe rushed from his room, wearing the bottom half of his pajamas, and said, "What was that?"

Frank didn't answer. He rushed out the door and gasped. Izzy was gone!


	5. Collapsed

_"I over thought, so I locked up my heart. There you stood, your blue eyes hidden beneath your hood. Why did I let you go? You're too good to be true. I messed it up, and now I don't know what to do. We ran in circles and wasted time from right to wrong from right to wrong. If I knew that you were mine, I wouldn't have wasted time. I wish I could erase the past. Now it's all collapsed in my lap." **–Collapsed**_

"Why didn't I listen to her?" Frank moaned, staring at the spot he had last seen Isabella.

"How could you not?" Joe said, scrunching up his nose. "She was loud. Come to think of it, so were you. Besides, she probably stormed off. There's no reason to assume she was taken against her will."

"No," Frank said, terror rising in his voice. "She told me...she told me that she's been getting threatening letters if she ever tells anyone about the gang...and she told me. And they've been threatening to hurt her for a long time. I was just too steamed to listen."

"Look, maybe she was just letting out some frustration when she screamed," Joe reasoned. "I'm sure she's fine."

At that moment, Joe's cell phone rang. "It's Jazz," he informed his brother before pushing talk and saying, "Hey, babe."

_'Hey, Joe! How did everything go tonight?'_

The boy frowned. He hated to tell his girlfriend what had happened; she was a very nervous person to begin with, but he also knew that honesty was a great value. So he decided to tell her a toned-down version of their misadventures.

"Well...the guy recognized me and he almost kidnapped me, but—" he paused as he heard an audible gasp from the other line.

_'Joe? Are you okay? Did he hurt you? How did you escape?'_

Joe proceeded to tell Jasmine everything that had happened, but in a much less frightening manner than it had actually been, ending with Izzy's confession.

 _'What?'_ gasped Jasmine, sounding appalled.  _'I can't believe it. So that's why she was so distant in high school. I can't believe she'd lie to me and get into something like that. I thought we were friends. I'll make sure to talk to her about it when she leaves your place.'_

"What? Do you mean she hasn't gotten to your dorm yet?"

 _'No,'_ Jasmine said, anxiety rising in her voice.  _'Joe...D'ya think something happened to her?'_

"I don't know. But Frank and I will start looking right now. We'll find her. But I gotta go. We'll call you if we find anything...unless you want to help," he added, already anticipating the answer.

_'You know I want to...Joe...but it's just too dangerous. I'm just as worried about Izzy as you and Frank are, I'm sure, but...I don't think I can handle it.'_

"That's fine," Joe said. "I understand. I'll let you know as soon as something turns up, okay?"

_'Okay—and Joe?'_

"Yeah, babe?"

_'I'm sorry.'_

The next morning, Frank and Joe didn't go to their classes, due to their search for Isabella. Instead, they were sitting in their dorm, mulling over the disturbing events of the previous night. The police had also been notified, but so far, they hadn't had any luck either.

Frank was nearly beside himself with worry. "I can't believe all those things I said to her," he mumbled to no one in particular.

"Frank, pull it together, man." Joe paused. "Is this how you act when I get kidnapped? 'Cuz I can see you driving Mom, Dad, and dear Auntie off the wall with that."

Frank glared at him. "This is no laughing matter, Joe."

Joe raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, I know it's not! I was just saying—"

"Joe—just forget it." Frank ran his hand through his thick hair for the umpteenth time. He took a deep breath and attempted to pull his thoughts together. "Okay, let's review what we've got so far. Izzy was receiving threatening notes from the gang after she left them. She used to date Tristan. No one quits the Red Dragon—and lives." His voice strained and filled with grief, Frank said, "It's no use, Joe. She's gone. They've killed her."

"Maybe..." Joe said quietly, "...or maybe not."

"What?"

"What if Izzy means something to the gang? I mean, she did date Tristan."

"Yeah, but Tristan's in jail, remember? After he tried to kidnap you last night?"

Before Joe could reply, his cell phone rang. "Hello?"

_'Joe Hardy?'_

Joe recognized the voice of the local Chief of Police.

_'I feel the need to inform you that we just received some disturbing news.'_

"Okay?"

_'Tristan Honeycutt escaped from the prison he was taken from last night. We have reason to believe that he may be coming after you soon, according to what was said last night. Please watch your back.'_

"Right," Joe said, heart sinking. "Thanks, Chief."

When Joe told his brother the news, Frank groaned in frustration. "Now we've got more than one problem—you're still in danger too!"

"Unless..." Joe began, eyes lighting up.

"Unless...what?" Frank asked, too upset to think.

"Unless... Tristan kidnapped Izzy."

Frank snapped his fingers. "He probably wanted a second chance with her! She might be alright!"

"Yeah...but for how long?" Joe said. "Because we have no idea where to begin our search."

"I do!" Frank shouted, then jumped up excitedly. He grabbed his cell phone from the table, snatched his jacket, and raced out the door. "C'mon, Joe!"

Joe followed, bewildered. Were they on their way to find Isabella?


	6. Get You Back

Isabella was scared. No, scared wasn't a strong enough word. She was petrified.

She had known from the beginning that it was a mistake to let Frank in on her secret. But when he told her he knew about her relationship with Tristan, she thought she had no choice. But apparently, someone had found out about her confession.

However, the more she thought about it, the more absurd that idea sounded. For even though she had been warned about not telling a soul about the operation of the Red Dragon, she realized that there was no way that a gang member could have known she had told him so soon...unless he had been already planning on taking her as she walked out of the dorm, and now they were even angrier because of her declaration.

She shuddered in the cold, dark basement of the building she was being held in, but it wasn't from cold. It was from fear. Icy fear that tore through her body, gnawed at her bones, and cut deep into her skin. She knew what happened to people who quit the gang. She knew what torture and pain was inflicted on those who told about the Red Dragon. She had seen it.

It started out simple. The victim was bound and placed in a small basement—under the large, vacant gym that had been taken over by the gang years ago, when the place had been deserted. Graffiti covered the exterior of the building, and lined the brick walls of the alleys beside it.

Then the prisoner was deprived of food. After five days of no food, and hardly any water, the beating began. The helpless captive was hit repeatedly with a whip, then cut and burned...and then, after three days of this horrible treatment, the near-dead detainee was shot until dead. The body was then disposed of, being thrown into the river and washed away forever. It was after witnessing this horrific scene, Isabella quit, swearing never to tell her secret, terrified of the same thing being done to her.

But she was blinded by love, and now, lying helpless in the basement of doom, bound hand and foot, and a gag jammed in her mouth, the girl knew she had made a mistake.

Her only hope now was that somehow, Frank had miraculously heard her scream as she was grabbed by the mask man and whisked away.

 _'But even if he did,'_ Isabella thought ruefully,  _'why would he come for me? He doesn't really love me—he's so angry at me for lying to him.'_

She mentally shook herself. Whether Frank was still angry with her or not, she had come to know the sensitive, passionate person he really was, and had faith that, had he heard her chilling scream of terror, he would find her.

Isabella had no idea who her captor was. At first, she wasn't even sure that it was one of the Red Dragon, but when she saw the gym, she knew what had happened, and what awaited her there.

Isabella recalled her thoughts as she had stalked out of Frank's dorm, a mob of jumbled emotions attacking her very being. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, the girl had spun around, only to find herself face to face with a masked figure. The man, dressed in all black, had prodded a knife into her back and she had screamed in terror. He had covered her mouth and dragged her to his car and was just speeding off as Frank and Joe rushed outside.

Once in the car, another associate of the masked foe, also wearing a mask, had bound Isabella hand and foot, put a gag in her mouth, and shoved her down into the back seat. Then they had driven a long ways, only to stop at the deserted gym. Isabella had been carried into the dark interior of the foreboding basement before being left alone to ponder her nightmare.

Her captor had not yet returned, and the terrified feeling in the pit of Isabella's stomach was just dying down into a sickening uneasiness when the door to the basement swung open.

Isabella stared in shock at the young man who had kidnapped her. Dressed in black jeans with massive chains hanging down past his knees, and a muscle shirt with a rebel flag covering the fabric, with an ugly scowl on his face and murderous look in his fierce eyes, stood Tristan Honeycutt.


	7. Things We Go Through

_'These are the things we go through. Let's take control and be ourselves, and not waste time wondering about how we're gonna make it out.' **–Things We Go Through**_

"C'mon, Joe, we're going home."

"What? Why?"

"I'll explain on the way, just grab your coat, and let's go!"

On the way to their house, Frank told Joe of his plan. "Remember what Dad said the first time he told us about the gang?"

"Yeah. They are brutal, mean, and will do away with anyone in their path. But I think we pretty much found that out already." He unconsciously rubbed his neck, which had begun to bruise slightly from his rough treatment.

"You okay?"

"Will you stop with the worried big brother thing? I'm fine. Now, go on."

"Fine. Okay, Dad did tell us that, but he also told us that he had arrested Juan Peterson."

"I know that, too. That's why the gang's after me, remember? They want Dad to know what it feels like to 'lose one of his own'." Frowning, Joe said, "I wonder why no one ever wants to Dad to find out what his life would be like without you."

Despite the situation, Frank chuckled. "Because, you're his 'baby boy'. And they probably know that they couldn't get me anyway. I'm a rock!"

Joe snorted, but said nothing.

"Anyway, I'm going to go to the jail and visit Peterson. See what I can get him to tell me."

"And what makes you think he'll tell  _you_ anything?"

"I'll be undercover, dimwit," Frank said impatiently.

Deciding to ignore the name calling for the moment, Joe said, "I'm going with you."

"No way. Too risky. You've already got the whole gang looking for you. What if Peterson recognizes you?"

"Come off it, Frank, what can he do to me behind bars? Anyway, I think I'm pretty good at keeping up an alias."

"Yeah, you sure proved that the other night."

Joe glared at his brother. "Well, I wasn't undercover. And they already knew what I looked like, and were already planning to kidnap me. So there."

"Joe, I really don't want you to—"

"I'm going." Joe then turned up the radio, propped his feet up on the dash, closed his eyes, and refused to listen to another word his brother said.


	8. It's Over

_"I need you more than the sun. She's telling me that it's done. I can't believe that it's over. I should've known all along…It's over." **-It's Over**_

Upon arriving home, the boys were met with more disquieting news. Their father had left just that morning, saying he had picked up an urgent lead to another case he was working on, and wanted to check it out. They had been looking forward to his help on the case.

"I'm terribly sorry, boys," Aunt Gertrude said grimly. "Is there anything we can do to help you find that poor girl?"

Frank had informed them of Isabella's disappearance, and the gravity of the situation, but had failed to mention the fact of her betrayal. It just hurt too much.

"We're heading down to the police station in a few minutes—after we finish disguising ourselves," Joe said. He gestured to several bags from a make-up shop, grinning. "We're going to primp so we'll look good when we see mister Juan Peterson."

Mrs. Hardy frowned. "Just be careful. I don't want a repeat of the other night." She looked pointedly at Joe, who grinned, putting his hands up in surrender.

"Okay, Mom, you've got me," he said playfully. "I won't go and try to leave with any bad men again."

"It's not  _funny_ , Joe." But she was smiling.

"C'mon, Joe, let's get going," Frank said. He grabbed the plastic bags and headed for the stairs. "Let's get 'primped up' and ready for our 'date' with Peterson." His voice darkened. "And he'd better be up to giving us some answers."

Twenty minutes later, the boys were back downstairs and ready to go. Aunt Gertrude's hand went to her heart as she saw her nephews. "Heavens!" she shrieked, looking appalled. "You two look like…like…those punkish lads from that band…Green Day you listen to!"

Frank smiled. "Good."

Mrs. Hardy chuckled. "My little punks."

Joe groaned. "Not funny, Mom."

Frank had spiked up his hair into a Mohawk, and had used temporary hair dye to color the tip of the Mohawk a fierce green. A fake fang earring dangled from one ear, and a fake eyebrow piercing was also present. He was wearing baggy camouflage pants, a tight-fitting muscle shirt, and a black vest over that. Combat boots completed his ensemble.

Joe had also used wash-out hair dye to turn his wavy, blonde hair to a spiky, gelled-up, black hairdo. He had used orange contacts to cover the blue of his eyes, and was wearing false earrings, nose ring, and lip ring. He wore black lipstick, and heavy eye makeup. He had on tattered blue jeans, a 'wife beater' shirt, and a leather jacket over that. He, too, wore combat boots. Both boys had on several golden necklaces, and had heavy silver chains hung from their pants.

Mrs. Hardy grimaced. "You boys look absolutely trashy," she commented.

"Fine," Joe said. "I'll go upstairs, wash all this gunk off, change my clothes, then go to that jail looking just like myself, and end up getting kidnapped. That what you want?"

Mrs. Hardy sighed. "Be careful." She looked pointedly at each of her sons in turn. "Both of you."

They nodded and headed out the door. Joe grabbed his cell phone as they went out. He was hoping Jasmine would call.

On their way to the jail, Joe's cell rang. He checked the number. "It's Jazz," he informed Frank, who was in the passenger's seat.

"Well, keep your eyes on the road, and talk later," Frank ordered, but Joe ignored him and answered anyway.

"Hey, Jasmine," he said happily.

' _Um, hi, Joe. Have…have you found Izzy yet?'_

Joe glanced at his brother, then said, "Not yet. But we're getting close."

' _I don't know how to tell you this, but…'_ Jasmine paused, lost for words.

"Come on, Jazz, you know you can say anything you want to me. What's up? You okay?"

Frank looked over worriedly. "What's wrong? Has she heard anything from Isabella?"

"Shush!" Joe glared at his brother reproachfully. "Now, Jazz, what's wrong?"

'I'm really scared, Joe. I got a note on my dresser this afternoon. It…it looked like it was written in blood, but I think it's just red paint. Anyway, it was creepy. And it said that I was getting way too involved. And that certain forces have been put into motion, and nothing's going to stop them. And if I knew what was good for me, I wouldn't have another thing to do with you guys or Izzy.'

Joe felt anger bubbling up inside him as he took a sharp left. Not only did these creeps threaten his life, and kidnap Izzy, but now they were threatening his girlfriend. "Jazz, listen, it'll be okay. Just—"

' _No, Joe.'_ Jasmine cut him off, pain evident in her shaking voice. ' _I'm terrified. I…I don't want to die.'_

"What? Jasmine, you aren't going to die!"

Frank looked genuinely concerned as he looked over at his brother, who was looking more upset by the second.  _Maybe I should have driven,_ he thought to himself, seeing as Joe was very distracted.

'Joe, I'm sorry, but…I'm not a kind of person that likes to take risks. I…I'm afraid of things…of the future…I knew when I started dating you…a detective…that things would get ugly, but I didn't care at the time. But now I do. I like you, Joe, I really do, but…I can't go on like this. I'm a nervous wreck. I'm sorry, Joe, but it's over. I—I'm breaking up with you.'

Joe clicked the phone shut without saying goodbye. He knew he should have said _something_ in reply, but right now, he was just too shocked and upset.

"JOE! PAY ATTENTION! OH MY GOSH—"

Joe looked ahead and slammed on his brakes. But it was too late. Their van ran into a pole on the side of the road, ramming into it so hard that the vehicle was nearly split in two.


	9. From Underneath

_"From underneath, I wanted you to see the first thing that I ever poured my heart into, you'll never know the pain that I've been through. I'm not so sure you'll ever know, and so I'll make you understand the words that fill my life are not from you, but from my Father's hand. Do you remember that cold day in December, leaving everything you knew behind? I may never know how it feels to stand beside you (take your hand) when I need some direction. And I may never know how it feels to see you smile back at me and to know you'd be proud of me." **–From Underneath**_

Frank tried to move, but immediately stopped, for he was immobile. A sharp pain shot through his back, and he felt something sticky slide down his face from his nose. He decided it was blood. He tried to remember what had happened, but all he could remember was Joe running into the light pole, then…blackness, and waking up to the smell of ammonia and flashing lights.

Now, as he begin to come to, he heard a stern male voice say from over him, "You alright, Son?"

"I can't move," Frank muttered, woozy. "I'm paralyzed."

There was a short chuckle. "Nah, you're strapped to a stretcher. You and your friend have caused quite a commotion."

"Friend? Oh, Joe! Is he okay?"

"He'll live. You got the worst of it; he was actually conscious when we got here. He has a broken wrist and a split lip. He was a little out of it, and he couldn't get out of the car. We're taking him to the ER, too.

"You, on the other hand, broke your nose when the airbag hit you full force in the face. You hit your head on the window, and blacked out. We don't think you have a concussion, but we're taking you to the ER for an MRI, just in case."

With that, Frank was rolled into an ambulance, where he saw Joe for the first time since the wreck. He had a clump of dried blood on his lip, and his right hand was twisted at an odd angle. "Joe?" he muttered. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He said nothing else the remainder of the ride to the hospital.

Almost five hours later, the boys were released from the examining room with a clean bill of health, and nothing more than a warning and lecture about safe driving. After his broken wrist had been put in a cast, Joe had been forced to take an alcohol test by the local police station. They had told the officers of their true identity, and why they looked like "no good gangsta druggies", but, since Joe had been driving so recklessly, he still had to do it. Finally, they were free.

"Joe, why haven't you spoken more than two words to me since the accident?" Frank asked, annoyed.

"Because…nothing."

"What made you lose focus like that? I know you told the Chief that you were distracted, but…"

"Jasmine…she broke up with me. Said it was too dangerous for us to be together. And then I lost it, and wrecked our car, and…Frank, I thought you had  _died_! When the car finally stopped and the world quit spinning, all I remember was calling your name and you not answering! And then I saw you there, not moving, and…" he broke off, his voice cracking.

"Joe, everything's alright. I'm fine, you're okay…but tell me, why did Jasmine dump you?"

Joe shifted in his seat. They were at home on the couch, and their makeup was gone. They had decided to rest the remainder of the evening and perhaps try their luck at the jail tomorrow. In the meantime, the Chief of Police had promised to dig up as much as he could on Izzy's whereabouts.

"I dunno. She got some dumb note that said she'd better stay away from us, or else. She was terrified that she was going to die. I told her I'd protect her, but…I don't know, after that, I just zoned out."

"Everyone makes mistakes, Joe."

"Yeah, and I'm beginning to think becoming a detective was one of the worst ones I've ever made." With that, he stood up, tears forming in his eyes, and faced his brother. "Now, because of it, I've lost Jazz forever. She is the one girl I've ever truly loved, and now she's gone, all because of my career choice."

"Joe, don't you think I feel the same way?" Frank asked softly. His voice broke. "Is—Izzy is in mortal peril because of the decision I made to become a detective. But you know what? I made that decision because I love what I do. I love helping people, and I love making things right, and having to think."

Joe smiled slightly. "Yeah. I do, too, but…"

"But?"

"I love Jasmine more. And now we'll never be together."

Joe shook his head angrily. "I hate my life," he groaned, then stormed out of the room. Frank heard him pounding up the stairs, cursing. Then he heard Joe's bedroom door open, and slam shut, and then a gunshot.

A loud, unknown voice yelled, "It's over, Joe Hardy!"

Frank raced up the stairs two at a time. Someone was attempting to kidnap Joe!


	10. Daddy's Little Girl (Is Now My Baby)

" _You just turned eighteen a week ago. And you want to learn but you don't know. You're grown up, don't need permission. Find out what you've been missing. It took some time, but now you really wanna figure out just what it is that all the other girls are talkin' 'bout, and it's driving your mama crazy, 'cuz daddy's little girl is now my baby. I think you're ready, Baby. I think you're ready, Baby. Come on and get it, Baby. I think you're…I think you're… You've always followed all the rules. Done just what you're supposed to. Stick the key in the ignition and light it up, have a taste of what it's like to be old enough. Move your body, Baby, let me see you work it. Lookin' at you make me wanna blow a circuit. And it's driving your mama crazy, 'cuz daddy's little girl is now my baby." **–Daddy's Little Girl**_

Frank raced up the stairs, two at a time, ignoring the throbbing pain from the crash. He was about to charge into Joe's room when someone stepped into the doorway. Frank gaped in amazement.

"Isabella?"

The girl nodded, her eyes wide. Frank heard a crash from inside the room and a strangled yell from Joe. "Izzy, how did you—who's in there—what's going on—let me through!"

"Frank," Isabella's voice was hushed, urgent. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. And I'm sorry I ran out. I just wanted to let you know that I'm okay. It was all a misunderstanding."

Frank stared at her for a minute, and then tried to push past her. "That's great, Izzy, but I—"

"Listen, Frank," Isabella said, her eyes shining with tears. "It was Tristan! He grabbed me, but he told me later that all he'd wanted was to have me back. He still loves me, Frank!"

The latter couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Izzy, are you saying…are you saying that you're with Tristan now?"

Isabella nodded slowly. "I hope you're not mad, Frank. I really did like you."

"Mad?" Frank managed to choke out. "Mad? You lie to me, run off, get kidnapped, then come back with your ex-boyfriend who is in there right now trying to kidnap my brother, and you ask me if I'm mad?" He took a deep breath. "No, Isabella. I'm not mad. I'm FURIOUS! You really are a traitor, aren't you?" He pushed past the girl, eyes dancing in anger, but stopped when she grabbed his arm.

"Frank."

" _What?"_ he hissed, enraged.

"It'll be okay. Don't put up a fight, and just let Tristan take Joe."

"You've  _got_ to be kidding me," Frank snapped. "What, do you think I'm some kind of idiot?"

"No," Isabella said forcefully. "On the contrary, I think you're one of the smartest people I know. So this is why you needed to listen. Trust me. Everything'll be fine." She turned away from Frank, and walked to her boyfriend, who had Joe in a stranglehold. "You got'em, Baby?"

"Yep. Later, Frank."

Frank was about to charge, them, but he caught sight of the gun that was being held to his brother's head. He watched helplessly as his brother was led out of the house, into a waiting car, and driven away. Then he ran downstairs to call the police.


	11. Face of the Earth

_"It's been a long time coming since I saw your face, since we held it down, since we were in the chase. It was the road less traveled, the path less formed. A skinny trail, it was barely worn. But we kept on walking and slipping and talking and running and falling and crying and crawling. We were in the trenches, on top of the world. Young refugees, but we were momma's pearls. Where you been dog? Where you been? I thought you fell of the face of the earth…I thought you fell…I thought you fell…It's been way too long and we've come too far for you to drop out of my life like a falling star. Right off my radar, not a sign or a trace. You know I had love for you that's bigger than mistakes." **–Face of the Earth**_

"What are you going to do with him, Babe?"

Joe Hardy glared up at Isabella Starr, his heart heavy. He was lying on the floor of a deserted gym, the gang's hideout, as he had come to discover. Tied hand and foot, gagged, and utterly helpless, the young man couldn't move an inch.

Tristan Honeycutt smirked and turned to his girlfriend. "I don't know, Iz. Who cares, really? I just did all that crap 'cuz the Red Dragon said he'd kick me out—and you know that means killing me—if I didn't do it. All I care about is being with you."

Isabella's eyes lit up. "Really?"

Tristan pulled her into an embrace and kissed her neck. "Really."

Joe wanted to jump up, to scream,  _'No, he's a liar! He's just using you!'_  However, he had to be content with lying motionless on the floor, fuming at the couple.

"Listen, why don't we just let him go, then?" Isabella asked hesitantly. "I mean…if you really don't care what happens to him. Red Dragon won't find out, will he?"

Tristan shrugged. "Normally, I'd be all, 'Sure, Babe, whatever you want. Red Dragon's not as important to me as you. But, this guy." He kicked Joe roughly in the side, and the boy let out a muffled grunt. Isabella winced.

"What about him?"

"He's Frank Hardy's brother. And Frank Hardy almost stole my girl. I would have preferred to get revenge on him personally, but since Red Dragon ordered me to capture his brother, I figured that was the next best plot of revenge. Kill his brother, make Frank suffer."

Isabella looked at Tristan in horror. "I thought you said you didn't care what we did with him!"

"I don't," Tristan said, grinning. "That is, I don't care what we do with the body after we kill him tonight."

* * *

Frank Hardy jumped for his cell phone as it rang. He was in the car, just having left the police station, and waiting for his parents to call back, since he had not been able to reach them before.

"Hello?"

' _Frank? Is that you?'_

Frank was startled and a little peeved at the voice he heard on the other line. "Jasmine? What's up?"

' _Is Joe there?'_ she asked.  _'I tried to call him on his cell, but he didn't answer. But I really need to talk to him.'_

Frank frowned as he took a left turn, as he headed for his house. "No, he's not, Jasmine. He was kidnapped a few hours ago."

There was an audible gasp from the other line.  _'Oh no! What happened? By who?'_

Frank sighed, emotionally exhausted. "Tristan and Isabella."

'WHAT? Isabella? No way, there's no way she'd do something like that, Frank. I mean, I've known her for years, and she really likes you, she told me so…she'd never do anything to hurt you…'

As Frank pulled into the driveway, he said into the phone, "Look, Jasmine. She and Tristan are together again. I really can't talk right now, and if Joe were here, I don't think I'd let you talk to him either, after how badly you hurt him."

He almost wished he could bite back his words as Jasmine let out a sob and announced,  _'I was going to apologize to him and ask if when this all was over, if we could be together again. But I guess that's a no!'_

She hung up. Frank massaged his temples. He didn't even have one lead on where to start looking for his brother, and now he had Jasmine mad at them both, too.

"I swear," he muttered, banging his head against the steering wheel and causing the horn to honk loudly so he jumped, "I think college has made me lose my tact."

Jasmine sat in her room, sobbing. Her stomach had twisted into knots, and she couldn't keep her mind off of Joe.

She loved him; there was no doubt about it. And she was worried. She had felt awful when she had broken it off with him, but the fear had been overwhelming. Now, however, that worry and fear was back, full force.

She wanted to help. She wanted to overcome her fear to help save the guy she loved. As she sat there and thought about it, she realized that anything was better than sitting here and worrying. She needed to do something.

With shaking hands, she pulled out her cell phone, wanting to call Frank and see if there was anything she could do to help. Before she could dial, however, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jasmine, it's Isabella. Look, I need your help."


	12. Nothing Left to Show

_'Life is just a lineup, tell me when my time's up, too much on my mind today. There's so much left that I would like to say. When I start to climb up, will you pull my line up, or am I just in the way? I think about it every single day. I think about it every single day. Fix us, 'cause we keep falling apart, just keep falling apart. We're tired of being alone. Fix me, 'cause I keep falling apart, just keep falling apart. Will someone find me?' **–Nothing Left to Show**_

Frank Hardy cursed under his breath. Everything was falling apart, going from bad to worse in a matter of hours. 'I never should have associated with her,' he thought, a picture of Isabella clear in his mind, her scowl of malice mocking his pain. He was dressed up once more in his 'punk' disguise, ready to go to the jail and get some answers from Peterson. And now, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

He sauntered up to the cell, escorted by a short, squat officer, who gave him a warning look before saying, "You've got ten minutes," and leaving.

"Who are you?" Peterson asked, his black eyes blazing with suspicion.

Frank chuckled darkly. "Name's Long."

Peterson looked at the boy, disbelieving. "Your name is Long?"

"You know any Chinese?" Frank asked, baffling the criminal.

"No."

"Then you won't know that Long means 'dragon' in Chinese. Long is my code name. I was sent here by the head honcho himself."

"Red Dragon sent you?"

Frank nodded, his expression unreadable. "He wanted me to let you know that Joe Hardy is now in our hands."

Peterson grinned. "That's great. Tristan's work, huh?"

"Yeah. That kid's good."

"You're telling me. What's he planning to do with him?"

Frank paused for a moment, trying to control his panic and anger. "I…c'mon, Peterson, what does Red Dragon normally do to people who make him mad? What do you think?"

Peterson closed his eyes, a smile playing at his cruel lips. "Excellent. I know what you're talking about. And Tristan is one of the best. When he tortures that kid, there won't be an inch of his body that's not begging to die. And after he's dead, they'll go after his brother, I guarantee it."

* * *

"Isabella? What are you doing? Why are you—how are you…no, how could you? You actually have the nerve to call me after all you've done and then—"

"Jazz! Please! You can yell at me all you want to later—"

"Oh, I will," Jasmine interjected, steaming.

"—but now, I need your help." For the first time, Jasmine noticed that Isabella's voice had a slight tremor in it. "Tristan's really mad at Frank. He's kidnapped Joe, because Red Dragon told him to."

Jasmine felt tears sting her eyes again, but didn't let them show in her voice. "I know. Frank told me."

"You talked to him?" Isabella asked softly, sounding scared. "Did he sound…you know…really mad?"

Jasmine snorted. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"Look, I know what I did was wrong. But…it was so hard to let Tristan go when I finally got him back. We used to…we used to have so much fun together. I loved him with all my heart. And when he grabbed me and tied me up, it broke my heart. But then…then, he told me he wasn't thinking. He just wanted me back so badly that he was willing to do anything to get me. He told me that we were going to kidnap Joe. He threatened me when I protested, but I didn't think he meant anything by it. He had always been a little bit…" She broke off.

"Abusive?" Jasmine supplied angrily.

"No!" Isabella snapped viciously. "Over aggressive. But why am I telling you this? Look, he's going to torture Joe until he dies tonight. He wants me to watch. I can't let this go on. I see now that Tristan doesn't love me anymore. He loves violence and pain, and that's not right. He's not who he used to be. He doesn't know that I'm talking to you right now, and he'll be looking for me any minute—I told him I needed a bathroom, which is in a gas station down the road. I'm staying to bluff him into thinking I'm still with his plan. But I need your help! Can you do it? Are you up to it?"

"Anything to save Joe!" Jasmine responded, suddenly determined.

"Okay, he is at the edge of town, in the abandoned—" She suddenly cut off. "I've got to go. Tristan's coming! Do whatever you can to help. Bye!"

Jasmine stood rooted to the spot, a knot tightening in her stomach as she tried to decide what to do. The answer came to her almost instantly.

With lightening speed, the girl dashed out of her room, past her confused mother, and raced out the door.

* * *

"So is he keeping him at the usual place?" Frank questioned, taking a step closer to the gangster.

"The usual place? Where we usually keep prisoners? Yeah, I'm sure."

"So…where at in the usual place do you think they'll keep him?" Frank asked, knowing he might have gone a bit too far.

Peterson grinned. "You'd really like to know, wouldn't you,  _Long_? Or should I say, Frank Hardy!"

Frank gasped. "How…?"

"I knew you were coming in here today, Hardy. I heard the jailers talking 'bout you and your baby brother's car wreck and how you had dressed up to be a part of the gang. They thought I was asleep."

Frank lost it. Taking a step forward, the grabbed the scruff of the criminal's collar, pulling him close. "Tell me where my brother is!"

Peterson drew back his fist and launched an iron fist into Frank's gut. The latter stumbled back, gasping for breath as he fell heavily to the ground. As he fought for air, Peterson hissed, "They've got your brother somewhere safe, somewhere you'll never find him. You won't see him again in this life, bud. But since the gang's coming after you next, then your mom, aunt, and dad, I'm guessing your whole family will be together again real soon."


	13. First Time

_'Stepping over, two steps closer. I sit around wasting time, feel like the poster for a self-help line. Will we know the truth when we're older? For the first time in my whole life, I'm not afraid of feeling alive. For the last time, I'm falling behind, and nothing out there will change my mind. Let's start over, crimson clover while these golden nights get colder. If I could press rewind, turn on a record and leave the past behind. Will we know the truth when we're older?' **–First Time**_

"Sorry I took so long, Tristan," Isabella said sweetly. She hadn't been in the bathroom, merely walking around the gas station while she talked with Jasmine. When Tristan had seen this, he had inquired what she had been doing. "My stomach hurt," the girl said. "I thought I might have been overheated from being in that old gym for so long, so I decided that a nice walk around would help it stop."

"So you lied to me?"

"No, I walked after the bathroom."

Tristan didn't look convinced, but he also didn't press the matter. "C'mon, Babe. I want to keep my promise to Hardy and start torturing him at eight o'clock like I said."

Isabella glanced at her watch. Seven thirty.  _'Jasmine, where are you?'_

* * *

Frank stalked out of the jail, fuming. "I can't believe it," he muttered. He had called his mother and told her what the man had said. She had heeded his warning to be safe and keep the doors locked until he called back, and to try and get a hold of Fenton.

Now, he was at a loss. His brother was missing, and about to be tortured to death, and Frank had no lead, no clues, nothing. The feeling of a dark emptiness consumed him as he struggled to decide what to do. His aching stomach didn't help his problems. Rubbing the aching spot where Peterson had hit him, he closed his eyes and tried to think.

Every time he shut them, however, he saw the horrifying vision of his brother, lying in a pool of his own blood, dying.  _'Frank,'_ he gasped,  _'why didn't you come for me? Why didn't you save me? I needed you and you abandoned me. Frank! Frank, help me! FRANK! FRANK!'_

"Frank!"

The boy jumped and spun around to see Jasmine running up to him at lightning speed.

"What is it, Jazz? I don't really have time right now."

"No, this is important. Izzy just called me."

Frank grabbed Jasmine's shoulders. "What? When? What did she say? What about Joe?"

"That's what I was going to tell you." A tear trickled down her face, but she continued, trying to be brave. "Tristan's going to torture him tonight."

Frank released his friend, dejected. "I knew that."

"She told me she was sorry, Frank. I know you're mad at her, and will find it hard to forgive her, but believe me when I say that Tristan really had her fooled. She's being a double agent now, and she gave me some information."

Frank's head snapped up. "What?"

"Tristan came before she got to finish, but she said that they are keeping Joe at the edge of town, in some abandoned place."

Frank knitted his eyebrows, deep in thought. "Edge of town…" Suddenly, it hit him. "The old gym! I can't believe I didn't think of it before! That has to be it, because even though it's deserted, it's been a favorite place for thugs and gangs and vandals. That's where Joe is! I've got to go." He raced for his car, Jasmine at his heels.

"I'm coming with you."

Frank stared at her, sure he had heard wrong. "Jazz, this is going to be very dangerous. If you go, your life will be at stake. Are you willing to risk it?"

Jasmine looked him squarely in the eye. "I'm done living in fear," she said strongly. "Joe needs me, and I'm going to help him. I'm going to make this right."

* * *

Tristan glanced at his watch, smirking evilly at the trussed-up teen lying on the floor before him. "Seven forty-five. What do you say we get an early start?"

His cell phone rang, distracting him. "What?" he hissed, then his eyes got wide in astonishment, and then narrowed in anger. "NO! Oh don't worry. I'll give them the message."

He gently shut his phone, and turned to face Isabella and Joe. With a jerk, he threw his phone across the room, letting out an ear-splitting yell.

Alarmed, Isabella asked, "What's wrong?"

"That piece of crap, Fenton Hardy, arrested Red Dragon. Caught him smuggling some stolen artifacts. Don't know how he did it, but he did. And now, you're going to pay!"

He grabbed Joe by the neck, and pulled him up. "I'LL KILL YOU!" he screamed. "I'LL KILL YOU AND YOUR WHOLE FAMILY!" He slammed Joe back on the ground, and the boy hit his head. Dazed, he could still feel the racking pain as Tristan Honeycutt begin to beat him mercilessly.

Blood trickled steadily out of several open wounds and as each drop hit the floor, they counted the seconds that Joe Hardy had to live.


	14. Fourteen

_'The sun goes down and then she slips away. It gets so lonely after dark. If only we could relive yesterday. Tomorrow always seems so far. The end is near, so much is left to say. The world is getting cold tonight. Traumatized people are so afraid. I smile 'cause everything's alright.' **—Fourteen**_

Frank Hardy and Jasmine Richards raced through the entrance of the gym. "It's really big," Jasmine said hesitantly. "How do we know which way to go?"

A scream of pain split the silence. "Joe," Frank gasped, as another horrified shriek sounded.

"No, Tristan, STOP!" he heard Isabella yell.

Racing into a back room, Frank saw a dreaded sight. His brother was lying on the ground, a small pool of blood surrounding him. Barely conscious, the boy was tied up, but no longer gagged. Tristan wasn't worried about somebody hearing them. He wanted to hear Joe suffer.

Without a second thought, Frank leapt at Tristan Honeycutt, a scream of rage parting from his lips. The two tumbled across the hard concrete floor. Isabella and Jasmine rushed forward and began to examine Joe. "He's hurt bad," Isabella said shakily. "After Tristan found out about his dad arresting Red Dragon, he began to beat him. I tried to stop him, but he did this."

Isabella faced Jasmine fully, and the girl saw the her friend had a large purple and green bruise on her left cheek, a split lip, and a bloody forehead.

"Oh gosh. What did he do to you?"

"Doesn't matter. We have to help Frank so we can get Joe some medical attention." Jasmine gently caressed Joe's face and stood up, determined.

"Stay here, Iz," she ordered.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do this."

Glaring at her friend, Jasmine growled, "Oh, yes I do." Seeing the gun that had apparently skittered from Tristan's grasp during the struggle, the girl grabbed it and turned it on its owner. Hearing the unmistakable click of a gun, both boys, badly bruised, turned around. "Get up," she ordered Tristan, the gun held steady in her hand, her voice calm and quiet, yet demanding.

Raising his hands in the air, Tristan stood, the gun following his head the entire time. "Isabella, get the rope that had tied Joe up. Frank, tie him up good and tight. Izzy, after he does that, you call the police."

Later, as the police took Tristan away, and an ambulance carried Joe off to be treated, Frank turned to Isabella and said, "Thank you. And I'm sorry about everything. I was too harsh."

"No, you weren't. I deserved it. But now, I'm just glad the police are going to arrest the rest of the gang."

"It was brave of you to tell them the names and where they are."

"I know. And until they're all safely behind bars, I'm going into the Witness Protection Program." She smiled slightly as a black van pulled up. "There's my ride. I'll see you soon, okay?" She kissed Frank tenderly on the lips and hugged Jasmine. "You were totally brave. I'm proud, Jazz."

She got in the black van that was to take her to the safe location and Frank sighed. "I'm going to miss her."


	15. Every Little Thing

_'I saw her yesterday, and I never felt a feeling like the one I felt today and now she's taking over me. I've never met anyone like you and I never could find the words to write you. She's been on my mind (she's working overtime). She's got perfect reasons, says she loves to talk to Jesus. And I think I believe her when she says life would be so simple if we all just learned to pray. She's got every little thing I wanted, and it still feels just like the day it started. Say goodbye to the broken heart and I could never express the way I felt before tonight. She sits there all alone, reading from a chapter she sometimes calls her own and now she's taking over me. This girl I once rejected has now become the girl of my dreams. She's been on my mind (she's working overtime). She's got perfect reasons, says she loves to talk to Jesus. And I think I believe her when she says life would be so simple if we all just learned to pray. She's got every little thing I wanted, and it still feels just like the day it started. Say goodbye to the broken heart and I could never express the way I felt before tonight. She's not an ordinary girl, I can see it in her eyes, just an ordinary boy, God must've heard my prayers last night!' **-Every Little Thing**_

A month passed, and a large group of people had gathered at the Hardy household to welcome Joe home from the hospital. He had suffered from two cracked ribs, one that had punctured his lung, a massive concussion, broken arm and had an infection in some of the cuts he had received from Tristan's painful abuse.

"Welcome home, bro," Frank said, smiling warmly at his younger sibling. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

Joe, his right arm in a blue cast, grinned and took a seat on the couch next to Jasmine, whom he was dating once more. "Hey, beautiful," he said, kissing her lightly on the lips. "I missed you."

Jasmine chuckled. "Yeah, it's not like I didn't visit you every day you were in the hospital."

"I still can't believe what Tristan did," Isabella said quietly.

Laura Hardy touched her on the shoulder gently. "I know it's hard. Tristan wasn't what you thought he was, and it hurt. But don't worry, dear. Things will look up."

"Yes, besides, you've got a new job ahead of you that will take up so much time, it's going to be hard to dwell on Tristan!" Fenton Hardy said, smiling cheerily.

"Really?"

"Why yes," Aunt Gertrude said, smiling knowingly. "And young Jasmine gets to help, too!"

"What is it?"

"You girls have to watch our boys, keep'em out of trouble," Fenton said, trying to be stern.

All the teens laughed. Joe turned to his dad and said, "Oh, come on, Dad, you know that's impossible."

As the laughter doubled, all worries were forgotten as the sun set in Bayport, and loved ones reunited.

**THE END**


End file.
